Quiet Desperation
by katesshadow
Summary: Brennans thoughts. I hope I was able to get into her head!


_"Healing comes so painfully  
And it chills to the bone  
Won't let anyone get close to me  
I'm damaged, as I'm sure you know"_

"_There's more than one type of family, Bones."_

Sometimes at night, in bed, when I think about all the things I've seen, all the inhumane things that are done to people, I'll close my eyes and ache in places I never knew existed. No matter how many times I kick that punching bag or how much I immerse myself in writing my books, I still see, still feel. I sometimes wish I could've been that girl, that girl who sneaks out of her room at night, defies her parents, listens to loud, culturally unacceptable loud music. Not the girl whose parents left her, not the girl whose clothes smelt like garbage bags. Not the girl who disassociated herself from everyone around her. Not the girl who sat huddled in a corner silently crying to herself. When my grandfather finally got me out of the system, I vowed then and there not to let anyone in again so they could hurt me. From then a wall has covered my heart and emotions, from everyone. Well almost everyone if I'm completely honest with myself.

I remember Booth saying during a case "All of us die a little on a case like this, Bones." What he didn't realise was, unless I had that wall covering my heart and emotions, I would die a little each day. Bones aren't just bones to me. Before I found my mother, they were all her. Every single skeleton, partial or whole, that came to me to identify. They were all someone's mother, father, brother, sister, daughter or son. Someone whose family had no idea what had happened to them. They all needed me to find out who they were, to give the remaining families closure. And I _needed_ to give them the truth. If I didn't have that wall, my heart wouldn't be able to take it. It'd barely survived the disappearance of my parents, then again when Russ left me.

I associate with dead people better than I do with people who are living. I can tell everything from a person's bones. I know I can't read people very well. I know I come across... cold, as some people call me. I'm not. I feel every single case. Every single lot of bones that come into my lab, I see them, I know things about them. I feel them. I feel what they felt while taking their last breath. Jesse was right, it probably wasn't healthy to take on this sort of career when I first started, but without my work, people would go without knowing what had happened to their loved ones. Also the victims deserve the right to a proper burial. I feel a huge sense of accomplishment in this work, because I can give the victims their dignity, and their families a sense of closure. A closure I was never privy to, until recently.

"_There's more than one type of family, Bones."_

Booth's voice kept running over in my head. Yeah, I know there is, anthropologically speaking. Doesn't mean _she_ belonged to any sort of family.

I was obviously meant to be alone. Even my father and brother knew that, which is why they'd left me, _again_. Yet again I watched the family I once had drive out of my life, willingly. It was in my best interest I know, but it didn't ease the pain any less. People always let you down, especially when love is involved.

Why can't the person I've made myself be good enough for anyone? I could give my absolute all, and it wouldn't be enough. The ones I love the most would still leave me. I'm not meant to be in a family.

That doesn't mean I don't romanticize about it though.

I've had lovers, long and short term. But it always ends up the same. They always want more than I can give, more than I can bear to let go. Should I let go? Should I let someone into my world? It's a lot to ask from someone. It wouldn't be fair to them. But then, I couldn't take it when, inevitably, they would walk out and leave me alone too. Just as everyone else does. Why can't what I give of myself to people be enough? Why do I have to give everything? At the same time though, I miss someone always being there to look out for me. That implicit trust in a certain person to always be there if and when I need them, even when I don't need them.

Booth confused things. He messes things up in my head, and I'm not the person I'm supposed to be. He's somehow crept under my skin. He's found the key that unlocks the door to my fragile side. He seems to appear when I feel like I'm not that strong. He can see how fragile I am, under my carefully constructed wall. Which scares me to death. It scares me because I can't lose Booth. I'm too afraid to show Booth, but I have a faith in him, well that's what Hodgins calls it. I don't know how to put it. One moment he frustrates me, but then he will say just the right thing in the next moment. I don't know what we have between us, but I know I can't do anything to ruin that bond we have. Booth said to me once that he'd never leave me, he'd always be there for me. I'm not sure Booth realises just how deep that ran for me. Promises are better left unsaid. Never is a promise, and I don't need any more lies in my life, especially from him.

I have no innocence left in me, only hesitance when I meet people. Being moved from place to place every few weeks, if not every few days, will do that to you. You feel so alone, sometimes you can't breathe. The quiet desperation will sometimes build up in me before I can push it back down. One moment 'll be fine, then the monster will creep up on me. The sobs wrack my whole body, and I can't stop the tears from streaming down my face. I can't stop the pain from escaping my body. Booth has seen this, he happened to come by my place while I was crouched in a corner with my head on my knees sobbing my heart out. I'd forgotten to lock my door. He pulled me into his lap and just held me until the monster subsided. He didn't run, it didn't scare him off. He didn't make a joke, or even say anything. He just held me.

Not even Angela has seen this side of me. She knows my past and she can read me like a book, but she's never been this close. She's my best friend, but I can't share this with her, I can't risk scaring her away.

I need to have my own sanctuary. A sanctuary Booth has pushed his way into. Which I find myself both appreciating and hating. I hate that I feel I have no control when I'm emotional and when he's in the room. I need that control, sometimes it's all I have. I hate the way he lets me hug him whenever I get emotional. I hate it because I feel like nothing can hurt me in his arms. I hate that he knows when to push and when to let me go. I hate that I don't have to ask for anything from him. He voluteers it all. I hate the fact that I don't actually hate it at all. I need him. That's what scares me most of all. I can't be stranded again.

So, I should go on my own again. I don't mind being alone, I'm kinda known for leaving. It's always easier that way.

But this time I can't seem to do it. Something's keeping me here.


End file.
